His crimson eyes
by Black Romeo
Summary: Of all the romantic settings we had to meet in a decaying Biology lab...and he was my nightmare come true.


**A/N: First time writing outside 07 so, I can't really promise anything. Inspiration for this chapter is 'Seven mysteries'. Though the funny thing is this story isn't of the horror genre at all (writing horror is totally out of my league). **

**Disclaimer-Don't own Nurarihyon no mago and never will.**

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**Ch-1, Living horror**

The sudden drop in temperature that greeted her on stepping inside the old Biology lab sent shivers down her spine. The room was definitely seeing its last days, what with the flickering tiny bulb and debris called paperwork strewn across the floor, the poor thing having got hit full on by the disorderly hurricane that was Miami Azusa-sensei could barely be identified as a lab anymore. Tsurara Oikawa sighed; the woman was as klutzy as ever.

It smelled slightly musty seeing it hadn't seen days of use. Empty jars lined the dusty shelves, bare of any contents. She knelt by the teacher's desk before fishing into her mauve skirt pocket to pull out a tiny key. "Sensei said the journal might be in the desk-drawer but I doubt it can be opened in the first place," she sighed eyeing the rusty lock with hopeless ambers. A quick glance at her wrist watch signaled the seventh hour in the evening. She bit her tongue; Setsura was going to give her an earful for coming home late. She fiddled with the lock before a small _clinck _resounded through the empty room and with all her might she pulled…only to land hard on the paper littered floor, the rusty jammed drawer lying beside her leg. She groaned, not because of the dull aching in her back but because of the fruitlessness of her painful action. The drawer was empty and that only promised some more excruciating hours in the cramped room. She was so _not _looking forward to it.

Just then a jar fell off the edge of the shelf, shattering into several pointy shards of glass just a few feet away from her. But before a scared blunette could pass it off as a mischief played by the fat, greasy rats that must have made a home of the decaying laboratory, the yellowish light from the bulb reflected off the spilled contents of the had-been-jar-to-store-god-knows-what. Tsurara's face paled and sweat droplets rolled down her forehead. The bright crimson fluid staining the papers glared at her. The amber-eyed girl gulped before letting out a strained laugh.

"Ahaha…this thing belongs to the Chemistry lab, I guess," she stood up on her shaky legs before making her way or staggering, more accurately, towards the spilled fluid. A strong coppery stench hit her nostrils as she bent own to look at it. She immediately retracted her hand, face paling even more and entire body trembling.

"B-bl-blood…"

**They say a girl died in the old Biology lab when the cabinet fell trampling her underneath. Since then a bloodied figure is said to appear if you switch off the light and enter inside the lab at night.**

The horrifying recollection didn't help the blunette in the slightest. She suddenly felt as if choking on her own breath. As if suddenly aware of her surroundings, she could swear the tiny room was gradually shrinking.

"I-I have to f-find that journal fast."

Her eyes fell on the only obvious thing she hadn't checked so far, a (not surprisingly) old green wooden cupboard standing solitary in the corner. She made a mad dash for it, her heart pounding against her frail chest, so much for running errands for careless teachers. The moment her fingertip touched the handle everything changed. The pathetic excuse of a light bulb breathed its last, shrouding the room in pitch black darkness. Tsurara's hand shook violently, her body already initiating the fight-or-flight response with her legs itching to run and never _ever_ come back. But pride took its toll and with an almost determined look, her trembling fingers pulled down the handle. Her mind screamed 'turn back, run!'

The door of the cupboard creaked open, its sound eerie and slow like a rocking chair exempted of its occupant swaying back forth. And there it was…a pair of crimson eyes staring at her.

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**A/N: Thanks for giving it a read *bows***


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